


Cluster

by velveteendays



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood, Brothers, Comfort, Death, F/M, Hurt, M/M, dallon and kirk are brothers bc yes, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8498320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velveteendays/pseuds/velveteendays
Summary: They finally get there and the party in the RV does not like what they see outside of the windows. Smoke clouds start to arise to the sky, Dallon has to pinch himself to wake him up from the horrible dream, or at least he hoped it was a dream but obviously it wasn’t- never is a dream. Kirk is the first to burst out the door despite the vehicle still being in motion. Dallon yells for him to come back but it is obvious he won’t come back until he knows what is going on. He’s going to hate himself for doing this but he runs out the already open door and braces himself as he stumbles a bit but keeps on going to follow his brother to the hidden entrance. Dallon slips through the entrance which dirties his clothes but he could care less. He needs to see if Kirk and Patrick are okay. Dallon can now hear screaming and his heart races. Please be okay, please be okay. He keeps on telling himself. He hopes so.





	1. Chapter 1

Whispers were exchanged as they waited outside the old squeaky mahogany door. They had begged for the person in the tub to come out, the people said that this person shouldn't blame themselves for what happened. The person has heard the same lines all too many times before, it didn't matter to him no matter how many times they have said it, didn’t matter how many ways they said it.. He just splashed the water around, making their words white noise to him., the crusty caked blood from his thin wrists from his skin washing away in the tub making the water colour a tinted red. 

"Dallon, please come out, Kirk wants to talk to you."

The boy looks up to the door, seeing the shadows of the shoes shifting around, they're nervous maybe?

"C'mon Dal, I wanna talk to you for a little, if you won't come out, then I'll use the key to get in." 

It's Kirk, and usually, Dallon would be terrified of him, but he's the only one who saw one, he knows it's the boy's fault.

"Y-you can come in... but- only Kirk, nobody else." He says, his voice hoarse and dry to the point where it hurt him to speak.

"That's fine with us, we'll leave," Gabe replies tentatively and the boy can see his feet and two more pairs of feet leave the door.

Once he's gone, the door opens and he sees the dirty-blonde haired man holding a towel and a pair of clothes. He smiles at Dallon and sets the things on the toilet seat, and walks over the bathtub, kneeling in front of it. Dallon pulls his shaky hand out of the water and places it on the edge of the tub, the older man grabs it and sighs as he sees the dried blood but he just kisses Dallon's knuckles.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself, little brother." He states softly and proceeds to help the (too) skinny boy up and out of the tub. Kirk grabs the towel and wraps it around Dallon and turns around.

"Change, then we'll talk and I'll wrap you up." Dallon obliges and pulls on his briefs then his brother's clothes which are too big for him regardless if he ate or not, Kirk is really buff. 

He's dressed in a comfortable jumper and sweats and he tells his brother they can go back to the bedrooms. After arriving and his self-inflicted wounds being treated, they sit on the large cot, looking down at their laps. He feels extremely guilty for taking his brother away from his job as being the leader and at that same time Dallon didn't feel bad. If only the boy was the one to be dead and not Tommy, things would have been so much better that way. Then Mark wouldn't have to hate his guts so much, and Kirk wouldn't be here taking care of Dallon. 

"It's all my fault. If only I had shot that fucking biter then Tommy would have been alive. I can still see his face as that thing bit into his neck-"

Kirk shouted at him and swatted his hand away. He was scratching his hand again, damn it. 

"Jesus Christ Dallon, it's not your God damned fault that he was bitten, some stupid gang had those traps set up just in case someone tried to steal their shit. We were overrun by biters, there was no way in hell we were all getting out of their alive." Kirk scolds, holding onto his brother's hands to stop Dallon from hurting himself again. 

"Anyways, I came to get you because we're going on another scouting mission, there's been some distress near the CherryTree district."

Dallon shakes his head, and gives his brother a small chuckle, "There's no way I'm going out again, my first mission ended in someone dying, who's to say that more people will die if I go out again?"

"That was a scouting mission in uncharted territory, Dal. This time, we're going someplace where we know very well, it's like a more controlled and diplomatic mission to see why CherryTree is being attacked. Nobody will get hurt, okay? If it makes you feel safer you can stay in the RV." Kirk says reassuringly which makes his brother relax a bit.

+++ 

Pavel was like a carbon copy of Dallon, psychologically speaking. The only thing they had in common, physical appearance wise, was their pale skin. Dallon was skinny and short but not Pavel short and skinny. Pavel stood at a mere pitiful five feet, two inches while Dallon stood at five feet, six inches. They did, in fact, think the same way, they had what Kirk called "catastrophic thinking." They were both sweet and all but brought themselves down way too often and if something slightly bad happened they'd turn it into something much grander. Dallon found it funny how they both got onto the "diplomatic" mission, Kirk should have brought people who were strong-minded not complete fuck-ups. Though that was okay the two would just stay inside, Pavel and him just sat in the living area of the RV and made bracelets with a bead set Pavel found his last scavenging mission. 

"Are you okay, Dellin?" Pavel asks his accent preventing him from saying his friend's name correctly. "Gabe told me vat heppened a few hours ago and he vas really worried for you."

The boy in question nods, giving his Russian friend a small pained smile. "I relapsed again- panic attack caused it," Dallon replies dryly, he hates lying to Pavel.

"I wish you didn't do zat to yourself. But I guess I understand vhere your coming from." Pavel says and smiles, patting the older boy's shoulder.

"You clean?" Dallon asks, tying the end of the black beaded bracelet then sliding it onto his friend's wrist.

"Da, two veeks clean." Pavel was very proud of that, he hadn't touched a single bottle of liquor for half a month, that started to make him feel like a normal fourteen-year-old. Dallon gave him a hug and told him how happy he was about that, congratulating his friend. The large RV came to abrupt stop, making the boys' bodies stutter with the vehicle and everyone in it. Kirk arises from the breakfast area and stands up, asking,

"What the hell is going on?" Dallon arises as well and quickly walks over to grab his brother's hand to calm him down. Gabe quickly shushes them both. The vehicle is silent for a few seconds and then Dallon can hear it, the moaning, groaning, and heavy shuffling around the RV. They tip from one side to the other and Pavel has to cover his mouth to prevent from making any noise. Dallon stealthily walks over to the breakfast table and climbs on it to look out the window. A large herd was passing through them and the thought of seeing that many undead in one place made Dallon’s stomach churn. 

"Do you think this is the disturbance CherryTree was talking about?" Dallon whispers to Kirk who is right next to him. Kirk shakes his head and moves closer to his brother to whisper. 

"No, it can't be it, they know how to deal with biters this is- this is-- notice the emblems on their clothes?" Kirk stutters out and Dallon nods, flinching knowing where and what his brother was talking about.

"Most of these people are from Cherry Tree, some has gone terribly wrong if they are losing a huge amount of people so quickly to biters." Kirk sounds appalled, there is something terribly wrong here and he knows that it isn't just biters that are the problem.

Luckily, the herd passes in 5 minutes and they start to drive very slowly but the everyone is still tense. Dallon hopes to any form of God that the Cherry Tree district is okay. The district was very large, the boy considers it a town from the size it is. The walls are around 25 feet high and it is made of cinderblocks and an extra layer of cement stick it all together. Besides the tough exterior of the district, they also had a tough interior, there soft looking but strong-minded leader Patrick Vaughn Stump. That man was a Pavel kind of short but if anyone had gotten him angry he'd probably smile softly and wait to pounce when the attacker least expected it. The short man had an army at his fingertips but never needed to use it, they were a calm district. It was odd for Cherry Tree to be under attack and he prayed that Patrick and his district were okay.

They finally get there and the party in the RV does not like what they see outside of the windows. Smoke clouds start to arise to the sky, Dallon has to pinch himself to wake him up from the horrible dream, or at least he hoped it was a dream but obviously it wasn't- never will be a dream. Kirk is the first to burst out the door despite the vehicle still being in motion. Dallon yells for him to come back but it is obvious he won't come back until he knows what is going on. He's going to hate himself for doing this but he runs out the already open door and braces himself as he stumbles a bit but keeps on going to follow his brother to the hidden entrance. Dallon slips through the entrance which dirties his clothes but he could care less. He needs to see if Kirk and Patrick are okay. Dallon can now hear screaming and his heart races. Please be okay, please be okay. He keeps on telling himself. He hopes so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's tired of running and people dying.

Dallon is tired, he doesn’t know how long he has been running for and all he can see is biters and lifeless unmoving corpses. Like he said, this place is huge and it’s been around fifteen minutes since he ran out of the RV. He hears people scream for help but he can’t help them, not yet at least, he has to find his brother. Dallon had already gone to Patrick’s house but all he saw was bullet holes etched in the front walls of the house. This whole thing was obviously intentional, somebody must have had something against Patrick and Cherry Tree, but who?

 

The boy decides to head to the small hospital they have set up near the edge of the district and he freezes as he sees somebody with a gun. He definitely isn’t apart of the Cherry Tree army and he has never seen that man before. The man is quick to react and pulls his gun up to aim at Dallon, the boy puts his hands in the air. 

 

“You apart of CherryTree district, kid?” The man shouts cautiously, Dallon shakes his head.

 

“Just looking for my brother, the two of us saw this place getting shot up at so we jumped in to help.”Dallon replies and walks towards the hospital which was to the right of the hostile man. The man shouts at him and tightens the grip on his gun.

 

“Stop moving or I will shoot, I swear to God, I will.” The hostile growls and Dallon moves closer, that wouldn’t be so bad, if he moved closer he would be dead and he wouldn’t have to feel this horrible feeling in his stomach whenever he saw Mark. 

 

“Go ahead and shoot me, s’not like it matters anyways,” Dallon mumbles and walks closer, the man now having his finger on the trigger. “Please do it.” By the time he is done talking to him he is a few feet in front of the man.

 

“Kid you have some serious problems I’m just bluff-”

 

“-Shoot me.”

 

“Kid-”

 

Dallon screams, which isn’t really a good move on his behalf considering how many biters can be lurking about but he hears a gunshot and he hopes that the man shot him. He is proven wrong when he feels something splatter on his face and the man’s body falls to the ground. He turns to his left to see Kirk, his signature Colt in his hand. 

 

His brother runs to him and wraps his arms around the frozen boy. The older man runs his fingers through the light brown hair of the younger boy to help him relax. “Come, we need to help Patrick at the nursery.” Kirk states, Dallon nods and they peel away from each other, the taller wipes the blood away from the shorter’s cheeks and grabs his hand, pulling him to the small hospital.

 

Once they are there, Dallon is relieved to see Patrick alive but well- not so much. Someone, probably the hostile man outside, had shot his shoulder. He was cradling two babies whilst Pete, his husband, was grabbing baby supplies and placing them in a backpack.

 

“Who shot up the house?” Dallon asks and grabs one of the infants from his injured friend. 

 

“Another group of people, a town really-- they weren’t happy with us not lending them a hand with another group who they wanted supplies from and they decided to shoot us up. Released the training walkers and everything- s’all gone to shit.” Pete butts in and zips up the last of the bags. “You call Gabe already, Kirk?” 

 

Kirk nods, “Yeah, he should be in the back entrance already, we should head there asap.” He suggests, all of them nod and make their way out of the hospital and to the back. Dallon grabs the second infant from Patrick’s arm and they all run towards the back door. And it had seemed that all of them would make it, it really did seem like, Dallon swears it did. Though that only happens in stories and movies, this was real life. The shot was fired, and Dallon’s stomach fell to the floor. Patrick was shot, and then there was another shot that hit him, then another, and another. Dallon stopped but it was Pete who dragged him along, who dragged along his screaming self. 

 

\---

 

He doesn’t know how many hours he’s cried now, he doesn’t know how many times Pete has snapped the rubber band against his own skin either. Out of all the people those angry townspeople had to shoot it had to be Patrick. He should have been shot, he should have. They all would have had a greater chance of surviving if he wasn’t there, if he wasn’t alive anymore. Dallon has been cradling one of the infants they rescued, feeding them the bottle, still letting out small pathetic sniffles and tears stream down his face.

 

They were on their way back to their smaller district and it probably was the most disappointing mission ever, this was way worse than losing Tommy, so much worse. He needs to stop with this catastrophic thinking, he has to, he decides to focus on the small infant in his arm. He decides to sing the lullaby that Patrick used to sing to him whenever he had an anxiety attack. 

 

“Honey is for bees, silly bear  
Besides, there's jelly beans everywhere  
It's not what it seems in the land of dreams  
Don't worry your head just go to sleep

 

It doesn't matter how you feel  
Life is just a Ferris wheel  
It's always up and down  
Don't make a sound

 

When you wake up the world will come around  
When you wake up the world will come around” Dallon sung, his voice soft and raw, the small boy falling asleep in his arms.

 

“Patrick was really fond of Awsten, and so was the little kid. Always smiled when Patrick picked him up to feed him that disgusting baby food.” Pete remarked and rocked his own child in his arms. 

 

“He’s something.” Dallon replies and rubs his eyes with the back of his hands.

 

“Patrick told me when he got shot that he needed to keep on going, and that’s what I’m going to do, even though it hurts like hell. I have to.” Pete replies sitting beside him on the couch they had installed in the back of the RV. 

 

“So pretend he’s never existed?”

 

“No, I’m just thinking of it as, he never even left me, he’s right here actually.” Pete says back, pointing to his heart.

 

\---

 

Florence hums, using one hand to caress Dallon’s shaking hand and the other to wipe all the blood that had splatter on his face. The boy said he could have done it by himself but Florence had insisted when she saw his shaking hands. She was fairly new around the compound, it had only been a few weeks since she had been found outside of the compound, blood and guts of the undead covering her body as a camouflage technique. Nobody knew where she came from, just what her name was and her that she could take care of herself. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, only opting to write everything down and signing what she said, until now.


End file.
